


Jack's Got Crabs

by Elfwreck



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-11
Updated: 2008-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfwreck/pseuds/Elfwreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in Davy Jones' Locker, Jack finds allies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack's Got Crabs

The land is hot and white and empty and flat. The salt has baked into the ground, turned it white-on-gray like the pale clear sky, too bright to be blue. White-hot sun bleaches the color out of everything.

He's wet.

I can taste him, here in my shell. From across the hard hot white salt floor, I can feel the water in his breath, hear it in his veins. He brings shade to the land of the eternal sun.

I long for shade. I miss the sea. I can taste it in the air around him. Can feel the memory of waves in the timbers of his ship. It smells of brine and kelp. He smells of rum. And the sea.

He's seen me. I shall be very still. Very, very still.

His shade covers me. I bask in his coolness. His hand is soft like newborn dolphin's skin. It curls around me like an octopus' tentacle, flings me out and away like a wave.

I return to him, drawn like the tide. I move very quick, very subtle… but he sees. He picks me up again. I am afraid. I do not move against his soft cool skin. He pulls me close to his face. His breath tastes of rain and sweet rum. His tongue reaches out at me, glistening wet; when it touches my shell I am undone. His water seeps into crevices too long dry. I welcome his touch, this caress; he tastes my salt skin and washes me free of dust and I am spinning, floating on air as if it were tide pool currents until gravity claims me again and I rattle against the hot, hard ground.

He has wakened me. I am alert with longing for the sea; I want waves and fishes and green strands of kelp and bright flickers in cool waters. I watch him. He is of the sea; it courses in his blood and lingers about his body. It calls to him as it calls to me, and he pulls his ship on its tiny thread, trying to bring it to the sea.

He is too small. The ship is too big. The ground is too hard. He cannot carry it to the sea, and cannot find the sea without a ship.

I go to find my sisters. Together, we will carry his ship, and he will lead us to the sea.


End file.
